The Wedding Ring Thing

I'm a woman and I'm married, but I don't wear a wedding ring. Never have. When we wed, my husband and I exchanged plain gold bands that had belonged to his maternal grandparents. I liked mine well enough, but it just wasn't really me. I've got nothing against jewelry (I own my humble share), but I simply never saw myself as a wedding ring person.

A few months later, we decided to have the two bands melted down and made into one ring for my husband. I loved this idea. After all, Frank and Catherine were his grandparents, not mine.

My husband's ring was created for his finger and he wears it all the time. Seems to like it, even. But five years later, I rarely notice the naked fourth finger on my left hand.

Three things happen when you're married and don't wear a wedding ring:

1. People assume you're unmarried. When they find out you aren't, they assume the absence of a ring means that your union is unhappy, unhealthy, and tenuous. They also assume your husband is a cheap bastard.

2. People assume you're a spinster of the highest order. Over 30, sad, desperate, pathetic, aging, an old maid. I'm talking Jane-Austen-style. If you casually mention your cat even once, it's all over. Death could not be more bitter.

3. Men hit on you. Often shamelessly, always hilariously.

I have a feeling my mother-in-law worries that the no-ring-thing is part of a diabolical, covert escape plan that I hatched to leave her only son when things go south. Which it isn't.

More on the no-ring-thing in my next post.

In the meantime, here's our Blisstree just-for-the-hell-of-it challenge: Don't wear your wedding ring for a week and see what happens. Let us know below.